


ABCDrabbles

by Fancifullauren



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst-Free! Yay!, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-28 07:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 7,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fancifullauren/pseuds/Fancifullauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bunch of different, non-connected Les Amis drabbles suggested by my Tumblr followers.  Most of them are E/R.  Caution: Fluff ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. E/R Creative Studying

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to suggest a paring/AU/prompt, send it to me! (fancifullauren.tumblr.com/ask)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, E/R "Creative Studying." Rated T. Written for Tumblr user barricadeboyfriends.

Grantaire was sober, for once in his life. And there was a good reason for that, too — he needed to be on the top of his intellectual game tonight. 

Enjolras cleared his throat impatiently from the opposite corner of the room. He was standing like a statue with a book in one hand and the other on his hip. ”I said, ‘The economic difference between productive and allocative efficiency is….’” 

”It is… um… when producing on the production possibilities curve versus providing the greatest possible benefit for the lowest possible cost.” He stated from his textbook verbatim. He had studied, that much was obvious.

”Right.” Enjolras said, moving his left hand to loosen his cravat. He eventually got it free of his neck and dropped it to the ground. ”And diminishing marginal benefit is…” 

“The decrease in price a consumer is willing to pay with each additional unit purchased.” He blurted out as soon as Enjolras had finished his sentence. 

”Yep.” His study partner responded. Grantaire licked his lips involuntarily when Enjolras shimmied out of his beloved red overcoat. ”Explain relative price.” 

The brunette’s tongue got caught in his throat. Relative price. Relative price. He racked his brain, searching for the answer to what in the hell relative price was. Enjolras tsk-ed impatiently. ”It’s… umm…” He babbled, trying to stall for time while looking for the answer in his brain, hoping for a little prompt from the statue standing in the corner, “Relative price, it’s, like…. you know? It’s that…” 

His study partner sighed. ”The price of one good in relation to another.” He clarified. 

”That’s what I was trying to say!” 

”Sorry.” Apollo teased, slowly putting his red coat back on without breaking eye contact. His lips turned up ever so slightly into a sly smile.

”This isn’t fair!”

”It’s more than fair. You’re learning, that’s the whole goal of this,” The blond stated matter-of-factually. 

”Learning is a byproduct of what I’m actually trying to accomplish here,” Grantaire sneered.

”Well then you’d better stay on top of your studies. Tell me how to determine whether a shift in price is due to a change in Demand or a change in Quantity Demanded.” 

Two hours and countless agonizing economics questions later and Grantaire finally accomplished what he set out to.


	2. E/R Post-sexytime cuddles

_Modern AU E/R Drabble written for Anon_

“This is spooning, yes?” Enjolras asked after he had finally stopped moving around and settled himself down behind Grantaire and wrapped his arms around the larger man. He was slightly happy to have known at least part of the coital terminology that was so foreign to him. 

”Nope. Close. It’s called ‘jetpacking’ when the smaller one is on the outside.” Grantaire gave his muffled reply as his cuddle partner stuffed his face into the sweaty mass of brown hair in front of him. 

”You made that up.” Enjolras accused, grinning a bit. 

”You can’t prove anything.” 

Enjolras started trailing the fingers on his right hand, the one curled around the top of Grantaire, in light circles along his stomach. ”Stop that,” Grantaire chuckled. 

”Stop what?” The blond feigned ignorance and his circles became light taps, little drum beats. The muscles under his fingers twitched involuntarily.

”You know exactly what, stop it!” Responded ‘Taire, resisting the urge to giggle like a girl. Enjolras didn’t stop. ”Don’t do that, it tickles!” 

”What tickles, ‘Taire?” Came the sly response. 

”This isn’t how this goes, Enj!” He had to stop for a few seconds to gain some composure as Enjolras’ left hand came and danced lightly on the small of his back, which in turn elicited a small hint of a laugh to escape from the winecask’s mouth. 

”I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

”You do not want to play this game with me.” Grantaire replied. Enjolras was greeted by Grantaire rolling onto his back so that he was lying diagonally across Enjolras, who was in turn being crushed by his massive weight. 

”Stop… R… can’t… breathe……” He choked out between laughs and struggled breaths. 

”What? I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.” He replied with a smirk. He shimmied down until only his shoulders and head were still on Enjolras’s chest. His smirk turned into a genuinely delighted smile when his partner’s right hand came to stroke his hair like a kitten. ”Night, Apollo.”

”Night, ‘Taire.”


	3. Cosette/Éponine "Girls Night In"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette/Éponine "Girls Night In." Rated T. Written for Tumblr user Atethys.

Cosette showed up in Éponine’s dorm room at 8:27 that evening, three minutes early. ”Come on in!” Éponine exclaimed excitedly as Cosette stepped in the door and put her bag down on the coffee table. ”What’d ya bring?” 

”Some fun stuff,” she said with a wink, “nail polish, RENT on DVD, some chocolates, and this.” She pulled an embarrassingly large bottle of Smirnoff raspberry vodka out of her bag. 

”You didn’t.” Éponine said, grinning. 

”Oh, but I did,” Cosette replied with a devious smile. Éponine fished two shot glasses out of the back of her cupboard and poured equally ample drinks for the two of them. 

”To girls night?” Éponine asked. 

”To girls night!” Cosette confirmed as they swallowed their first shots of the night. Cosette’s face twitched and shivered a bit at the awful taste and Éponine laughed. 

”Don’t worry, they’ll start to taste better as the night goes on.” 

————-

After singing every singly line in RENT in unison while running around the room and acting out the scenes, Cosette and Éponine were sufficiently drunk, but showed no signs of stopping the constant flow of alcohol. They were snuggled up on the futon and gossiping like high schoolers again. 

”He did not!” Cosette gasped, putting her hand over her mouth.

”He did, I was there! Right in public, where everyone could see!” Eponine affirmed. 

”That Grantaire, he has absolutely no shame. You’d think he could keep it in his pants until he gets Enjolras home.” Cosette said with a giggle. 

”Boys are stupid.” Eponine said. 

”Amen to that!” Cosette exclaimed, pouring two more shots. ”Fuck men!” 

”Fuck men!” Agreed her brunette friend, tipping the shot glass back. At this point, Cosette is smashed, and even heavyweight champ Eponine is starting to feel a bit fuzzy. Cosette settled back into her spot in Éponine’s arms. 

”If it were up to me, I’d never look at one again.” Éponine said. 

”Agreed,” Cosette responded, leaning up to give her friend a kiss on the cheek, then another on her nose. 

”Stop that!” Éponine giggled as the blond planted sloppy kisses all over her face. 

”Make me, ‘Ponine.” Cosette taunted, smiling into the skin below her ear. 

”You don’t know who you’re messing with,” Responded a wicked Éponine as she flipped herself so she was straddling the other young woman and grinning like an idiot.


	4. E/R Birthday Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Emma. Modern College AU — Enjolras doesn’t know what to get Grantaire for his birthday. Warning: kisses ♥

The meeting had just ended when Enjolras noticed that a party was missing from their usual group — “Where’s Grantaire?” He questioned, slightly put off by the fact that there would be no opponent to counter his ideas and exercise his mental muscles. 

”He texted me earlier today saying he couldn’t make it to the meeting. Something about having dinner with his family tonight.” Éponine offered, taking her eyes off Marius for a moment. 

”His family?” He asked, confused, “But he hates his family. Why would he want to have dinner with them?” 

”They probably want to treat him, what with tomorrow being his birthday and all.” Suggested Combeferre. 

Realization showed on Enjolras’s face, and Courfeyrac took this opportunity to laugh. ”You forgot, didn’t you?” He asked with a smile. 

”I can’t forget what I was never informed of.” 

”Does this mean you haven’t gotten him a present yet?” Joly chimed in. 

”I… No, I suppose I haven’t.” he said, absentmindedly stroking the red fabric of the jacket Grantaire had presented to him on his last birthday. He wore it almost every day, and it was slowly dawning upon him that social norms would require him to give his friend an equally as important present. 

The motives behind the gift were clear to everyone but the recipient — all but Enjolras knew that the drunk’s adoration for his leader far surpassed friendly admiration. To Enjolras, it was a friendly gesture. To Grantaire, it was a bold step in the ultimate goal of climbing into the light of Enjolras’s attention. And so it was that Enjolras was left perplexed as to what he would do in return for his friend’s birthday. 

”You should write him a poem!” Jehan suggested with a smile. 

”Or get him that Lana Del Rey album he’s been obsessing over,” offered Feuilly. 

”I saw a wonderful book on the history of modern art he might be interested in…” Combeferre said. 

”A bottle of nice Russian vodka, obviously.” Said Bossuet. 

”I’ve got it! You should get him a canvas, strip naked, and tell him to paint you!” 

”Sit down, Bahorel.” Combeferre deadpanned. 

”Calm down, guys, I’ve got this!” Courfeyrac said, winking at Éponine. She smiled in response. 

”Alright, Courf, spit it out then.” Enjolras coerced. 

”You don’t have to worry about a thing, Enj. ’Ponine and I’ll pick it up tonight and give it to you before the meeting.” He said. Enjolras didn’t notice the wily look in his eye or the knowing smile that spread across Jehan’s face. 

”That would save me so much time. I owe you one.” He agreed, and presented Courfeyrac with $150 in cash. 

——

The next night the meeting was held at Courfeyrac’s apartment so that they could get ratchet afterwords and crash there as opposed to having to worry about walking home from the café in the dark. He hadn’t bothered buying an expensive cake, opting instead for chips, an ample supply of Jack Daniels, and a plate of suspicious-looking brownies. When Enjolras walked in, he was greeted by a slightly tipsy Éponine shoving a glass of Jack at him. ”Enjy! We’re playing Ring of Fire. Come join us!” She exclaimed, her smile beaming up at him. He sighed as he realized that no work would be accomplished that evening. 

When Grantaire entered fifteen minutes later, he was happily surprised that he hadn’t had anything to drink beforehand, as there was enough free alcohol here to keep him drunk for quite some time. 

”Look who’s here!” Courfeyrac shouted, “Happy birthday, man!” He got up from the drinking game to give him a one-armed hug and put a glass in his hands. 

——-

Three hours into the party, Grantaire was wasted, and everyone else was passed out in strange positions on the floor and sofa. Only he and Enjolras were awake. Grantaire was draped over Enjolras, who had a protective arm over him. ”You’re sober.” He noted. 

”Of course.” 

”Let’s change that!” Grantaire enticed, holding up a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels. 

”Let’s not.” 

”Y’know, Enj, I’d say this is the best birthday I’ve ever had… from the ones I remember, at least, which now that I think about it is surprisingly few.” Grantaire slurred, earning a chuckle from Enjolras. ”Either way, this has been pretty awesome.” 

Enjolras just now remembered that he had a present to give him. ”Stay right here. I’ll be right back.” He said, springing up. As if the drunk could even stand at this point. 

He went and fetched a small red box, about the size of his palm, from the counter. It was heavier than he expected. He went back to the couch and returned to his former position wrapped around his friend. ”Happy birthday, ‘Taire.” 

Grantaire quickly snatched the box from his hands and opened it. 

”Apollo, oh my God.” He said, reaching into the box and pulling out a beautiful silver pocket watch. 

”I thought you might be able to make it to meetings on time now.” He joked quickly, as it was the first time he had seen it, too. He vowed to himself that the would thank Courfeyrac when he woke up. Grantaire was too busy inspecting the device to notice he was speaking. “‘Taire?”

Grantaire turned to look his leader right in the eyes. He didn’t say anything, only leaned in to kiss him in a manner all too gentle for someone in his state of inebriation. For half a second Enjolras was shocked into stillness, but then he leaned into his lips despite the stench of alcohol. Their lips created a slow rhythm of kisses, steady and soft. Enjolras raised an unsure hand to rest on the side of Grantaire’s face, who leaned ever so slightly into the touch. 

Grantaire’s drunkenness was showing as he was emboldened enough to crawl into the lap of his blond revolutionary and clumsy enough to stop kissing him while doing it. Enjolras grinned and pulled him firmly against him, keeping his arms around him as his lips met Grantaire’s again. Being as drunk as he was, Grantaire had no idea what to do with his hands, so instead of allowing them to wander, he curled his arms around Enjolras’s neck, which made the latter hug him more tightly. He smiled into his lips. 

After a few minutes R had stopped kissing him altogether and let his head droop down to rest on Enjolras’s shoulder, too drunk or exhausted or pleased with himself to continue. 

”Definitely the best birthday ever.” He mumbled before falling asleep in his new lover’s arms. 

When he was sure the winecask was soundly snoring, he gently removed the watch from the box again and turned it over in his hand. There was an inscription on the back. 

_Pour mon R-_  
Je t’aime.  
-E 


	5. E/R in the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU. E/R. Written for Tumblr user musiclilies.

Grantaire ran full-speed into the damp parking garage in order to avoid the downpour outside. ”Enjolras!” He called out, his voice echoing off the cement but getting lost to the sound of heavy rain. He took his phone out of the inside pocket of his worn black leather jacket and removed one of his gloves. He dialed his friend’s number. 

”Hey, man, where have you been?” 

”Where are you?” Grantaire asked, ignoring his friend’s question. 

”Fifth floor. Wait ‘till you see it. It’s red and black and…” Enjolras rambled, but by that time Grantaire had hung up and made for the elevator. He was not prepared for the sight he was about to encounter. 

There in the dwindling natural twilight was his beautiful Apollo, sitting on the most magnificent Harley-Davidson 2013 Night Rod he had ever witnessed and wearing a fitted dark red leather jacket and a smile. He was dumbstruck. ”Come on, then! We’re gonna be late to the meeting if you keep gawking like that!” Enjolras exclaimed. A grin crept onto Grantaire’s lips. 

”I’ll race ya.” He said as he sat himself down on his own old silver motorcycle. Enjolras’s smile faded. 

”Are you drunk? I smell something on your breath.” He scoffed, scowling a bit. 

”Nah. I had, like, four beers. I’m fine to drive. Let’s go.” Grantaire responded as he put the key into the ignition and the engine sputtered to life. Enjolras reached over and pulled the key back out, tucking it into his pocket. 

”You’ll be riding with me.” 

Grantaire mulled over this idea in his mind and decided that it wouldn’t be so bad to have to clutch to his leader for dear life as he rides on the most fantastic beast he’s seen. He takes a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and hands them to Enjolras. 

”What are these for? It’s not sunny.” 

”They’re to keep the rain out of your eyes, genius. And they make you look cool.” Grantaire sat behind Enjolras.

Enjolras conceded and put them on. ”Ready to go?” He asked, and Grantaire wound his arms around his waist and tucked his face into his shoulder so that his cold, wet black curls were pressed into his friend’s neck.

”Ready.” 

And with that, the engine purred when it’s master put in the key, and crescendoed to a satisfying rumble when he accelerated out of the parking garage. The rain tore at their skin like tiny bullets as they sped down the highway, but both the men wore wide, devious grins as they rode onward.


	6. E/R Gets a Kitten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set in some crazy modern AU in which Enjolras has a weakness, and that weakness is kittens. Let the E/R shenanigans ensue. Written for Tumblr user live-in-tricolor.

Enjolras stared sternly at Grantaire from across the table. Between them, the tiny black-and-white scrap of fur slept soundly curled up on one of Enjolras’s old red sweatshirts. ”I’m serious, Grantaire,” stated the proud leader, “Nobody can find out about this. Do I make myself clear?” 

Grantaire hadn’t stopped smiling since Enjolras had burst into the warm of the apartment from the frigid bite outside with a mangy pathetic excuse for a kitten in his arms and a terrified expression on his face. 

”Why? Don’t want people knowing that their fearless Apollo has a thing for baby animals?” He mocked, his grin widening. 

Enjolras sighed in response. 

”Can’t have them thinking he has a weakness, oh, no, not the stone-cold Enjolras!” Roared the slightly drunken brunette. His eyes began to crinkle with amusement as he laughed. 

”It was dying, Grantaire,” he tried in vain to explain. 

”He’s so cold and marbled on the outside, but crack him open and he’s just a big blond kitten!” 

”Alright, look, I-” 

”Look at this thing! It’s barely got any fur left on it! Is it a kitten or a rat?!” He continued to taunt. 

”Watch it, winecask. Marcy’s going to look like any other cat —” 

Grantaire stopped dead in his rambling, then proceeded to burst out in even more obnoxious laughter. ”Marcy? You named the thing?!”

Enjolras smacked his own forehead. ”That’s not what I said, it’s…” But Grantaire was too busy laughing and rambling and making a general nuisance of himself to hear, so the compassionate blond leader took the kitten in his arms walked over to the sofa. 

The next day, when Enjolras walked into the flat, he caught a quick glimpse of Grantaire smiling and petting Marcy before he snapped his head up and tried to casually play it off as if he was reaching for something beyond the kitten; but Enjolras knew better.


	7. Courfeyrac and Grantaire and Puppies.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU. Written for anonymous Tumblr user.

”Oh my fucking God, Courf, no. NO. You are NOT bringing your rat-dogs to come stay at our apartment.” Grantaire yelled into the phone. 

”Please, ‘Taire?” Courfeyrac begged, “Jehan won’t let me keep them at our house because he’s allergic!”

”No. I do not need any more annoying little vermin running around my house.” He stated firmly, glaring at the ugly stray cat Marcy that Enjolras had decided was worth saving last month. 

”If you’re referring to your boyfriend, don’t worry, I’ll be sure to tell him you said that.” Teased Courfeyrac, met with an all too quick “No!” from the other end of the line. 

”You are not bringing your nasty dogs over to stay with us and that is final.” He proceeded to hang up right as the front door was opening. 

”That’s a shame,” said a smiling Courfeyrac, a golden retriever puppy in his arms and two on leashes next to him, “Because it looks like you’re my new puppysitter!”


	8. Combeferre and Jehan in the Library

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Tumblr user kiertier.

”Combeferre?” 

”Mmm?” Combeferre responds, not bothering to look up from his book. 

”What rhymes with ‘twelfth’?” Jehan asks, tapping the back of his pencil on the table. 

”Nothing rhymes with twelfth, Jehan.” Replies an exasperated Combeferre. 

”Okay. Thanks.” 

The sound of erasing. More pencil tapping. Quick scribbling of a pencil, then erasing, then more scribbling. Tapping. A breathy sigh from the poet. Paper crumples. A new page is brought out. Scribbles. Erasing. Tap, tap, tap, sigh.

”Combeferre?” 

“What?” 

”What rhymes with ‘angel’?” 

”Nothing rhymes with angel.” 

”Blast. Okay.” 

Five minutes of scribbles later and Jehan speaks again. 

”Combeferre?” 

”What now?” 

”Is there anything that rhymes with ‘empty’?” 

”No. What are you writing, anyway?” 

”Poetry.” 

”Thank you, captain obvious.” 

”A love poem.” Jehan admits, blushing slightly. 

Combeferre looks up from his book for the first time. ”For whom?” 

”Nobody.” He replies in a tiny voice. He drops the subject and goes back to reading. 

Scribble, scribble, crossing out, erase. Jehan lets out a huge, overly dramatic sigh and lays his head down on the table, only for it to snap back up again and the scribbling to recommence It stops abruptly after only 2 minutes. 

”Combeferre?” 

”What?” 

”What rhymes with ‘Combeferre’?”


	9. E/R "I did WHAT?!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Tumblr user live-in-tricolor.

Perhaps it wasn’t exactly what one would call “fair,” or “ethical,” or maybe even “legal,” if one was to stretch it that far. All that is sure is that some way or another that may or may not have something to do with a devious pair consisting of Grantaire and Courfeyrac, and through this duo’s actions, Enjolras ended up not being able to think straight and sprawled atop a billiards table in Courfeyrac’s basement. 

At the beginning of the party, the proud leader vowed to stay stone-cold sober through the entire ordeal. A few minutes in, after someone’s hand had “slipped” and a bit of rum was added to his Coke, he was coaxed into taking a shot by Combeferre (under Courfeyrac’s direction), and it all went downhill from there. Grantaire stopped being helpful in the endeavor after he had reached a point of inebriation that would no longer allow him to walk a straight line. 

So now here they are, only the core Amis left in Courfeyrac’s trashed basement. Most of them are drunk. Courfeyrac is trying to clean up, but having a difficult time considering the fact that he can’t stand up without difficulty. 

Grantaire was busy cuddling up to an uncomfortable and sober Feuilly when he heard his name being called. 

“‘Taire!” Enjolras shouted from where he was lying down on the billiards table, “‘Taire, get over here, you drunken fool!” 

Not one to deny his leader, Grantaire slowly made his way over, stumbling many times in the process. He leaned onto the table for support. ”What is it you desire, my dear Apollo?” He asked, his tongue dripping with honey and a light aftertaste of sarcasm. 

“Help me up.” Grantaire grabbed Enjolras’s hand and hauled him into a sitting position, still atop the table. He let his head fall onto Grantaire’s shoulder with his face smashed up against his neck in an ungraceful embrace. 

“‘Taire, ‘Taire, ‘Taire!” He whispered happily, planting light kisses right in front of his lips between every mention of his name, which in turn drew a blush out of ‘Taire’s already rosé-red cheeks. 

”What’s all this?” Asked a delighted Grantaire. 

”There’s been something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” He slurred. 

”And that is?” 

”I’ve been meaning to tell you… something… and that something, that I have been meaning to tell you, ‘Taire, is something I have been meaning to be telling you.” 

Grantaire laughed. ”You’re not making any sense!” 

”I’ts just, I’ve been…” And with that, Enjolras greeted Grantaire’s chest with an ungraceful and yet admittedly epic vomit.


	10. E/R Roommate Woes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s another room upstairs… that is, if you’ll be needing two bedrooms.” -Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock

”Are you done yet?” Grantaire, toothbrush in hand, yelled, banging on the bathroom door. 

”I told you, I’m exfoliating!” Came Jehan’s shout, “It could be upwards of an hour.” Grantaire made a show of producing an obnoxiously loud groan before deciding to try the one upstairs. On the stairs he ran into Combeferre— 

”Do not go up there. Bossuet got food poisoning from that sketchy Mexican place he took Joly and Musichetta to last night.” 

Fuck. Grantaire turned on his heels and stormed into the kitchen. Eponine, who was in the midst of creating another one of her god-awful culinary atrocities, smiled as he came in. ”Hey, ‘Taire! You’re just in time! I’m almost done with my coconut chicken curry!” 

”As much as I’d love to stay around, unfortunately I’ve got a date in ten minutes.” He said, lifting up his toothbrush. 

”Oh… I hope you weren’t planning on using the kitchen sink.” 

Grantaire was almost afraid to ask — “Why?” 

“It’s filled with fat and sundry chicken organs.” 

”Holy fuck Eponine have you ever heard of sanitation?” He couldn’t believe that he of all people was concerned about this. 

She just scoffed and went back to stirring the pot of awful-smelling, bubbling liquid. 

Grantaire sighed angrily as he stalked out of the kitchen and opened the door to his room, only to find a small man rifling through his alcohol stash. 

”What are you doing in my room?” Grantaire whispered, his voice quaking with anger. 

Joly’s head snapped up. ”Oh, hi, Grantaire! I hope you don’t mind, you see, we were out of rubbing alcohol, so I just thought —” 

”GET. OUT. OF. MY. ROOM.” 

”Got it,” Joly squeaked, dropping the bottle of vodka in the process and running out of the room. 

Grantaire flopped onto his bed and let out a pained groan into his pillow. His door creaked open. ”Go away.” 

Footsteaps approached. ”R? Is everything alright?” 

Oh fuck. Enjolras is early. ”What? Oh, yeah, fine, everything’s fine!” Grantaire gushed, sitting up and straightening his flannel button-down. Enjolras saw through his lie and sat down on his bed next to him and curled his arm around his shoulders. Grantaire leaned into his shoulder. 

”Alright, tell me what’s up.” 

”I can’t take it anymore! I love Les Amis, but honest to God if I have to spend one more day living in this hellhole I am going to lose it.” 

”You know, you could always come stay in my apartment.” Enjolras offered, burying his face into his boyfriend’s greasy brown curls. 

”You’re a God among men, Apollo.” Grantaire said, leaning up to kiss Enjolras’s lips lightly. ”I’ll go pack a bag.” 

”Well, you could do that, but I was thinking of a more… permanent solution.” He said. Grantaire smiled. 

”That sounds perfect.”


	11. Hookups and Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU in which hookups mean nothing and someone won’t admit he’s jealous. Written for Tumblr user kisstheboy7.

Grantaire was woken from his drunken slumber by a loud knock at the door. ”Go away!” He grumbled, putting a pillow over his head. The door opened anyway. He grunted. ”What do you want?” He asked without bothering to move from his sleeping position. 

“‘Taire, baby! Long time, no see!” Came Courfeyrac’s unmistakable sing-song drunk voice. 

”I just left you 3 hours ago. You were chatting up some poor slut at the bar.” He deadpanned. 

”Forget that whore! I just missed you so much!” Courfeyrac cooed, sitting down on the bed and running his hand along Grantaire’s back in circles. 

”Why didn’t you just have her instead of coming to bother me?” He demanded angrily. He wasn’t one to have the precious little sleep he got be interrupted. 

”I think she was a lesbian. Or she was married. I don’t know. She said she didn’t want a one-night deal with me! I mean, what’s her problem, right?” Babbled the decidedly egotistical flirt. 

”Go home, Courf. You’re drunk.” 

”That’s rich, coming from you!” He laughed whole-heartedly and flopped down so that he was lying on his back next to his friend. He scooched in closer, and in response Grantaire shifted away. 

”I’m not your backup fuck buddy.” He said, removing the pillow from on top of his face and scowling at Courfeyrac. 

“‘Taire, darling, sweetheart, I’d have you over that no-good skank any day!” He said through his winning smile. 

”Fine. But nobody finds out about this.” 

”Of course not!” 

And, since it was Courfeyrac, everyone knew within a matter of minutes. 

When they walked into the meeting together the following evening, hardly a head was turned. Courfeyrac was well-known among les Amis for usually getting his way with whomever he pleases, whenever he so pleases it. And so it was that he came to sleep with at least half of them at some point or another, so it was assumed that it would only be a matter of time before the drunk got his turn. The only one acting out of the ordinary was Enjolras, whose usually scarce glances at Grantaire were nonexistent. Other than that, the meeting went on as normal: the leader recited his inspiring speech, at which Grantaire nearly swooned between bottles of liquor. After everyone had filed out, Enjolras was left alone with the winecask. He approached where his friend was sitting with wine in hand. 

”I heard about you and Courfeyrac.” He stated upfront, not bothering to beat around the bush. 

”What of it?” 

”I just think you should be more careful,” replied Enjolras slowly, as if thinking through every word before it came out of his mouth. 

”Why should you care?” Came the flat response. 

Enjolras let out a sigh. ”Just don’t do anything stupid, alright, R?” 

He chuckled. ”What’s it to you?” 

”Nothing, I’m just looking out for you is all —” He stated, trying not to let himself blush. 

Grantaire smiled so wide his eyes crinkled. ”You’re jealous, aren’t you, Ange?” 

”No,” he responded, a bit too quickly to be passed off as anything but embarrassment and perhaps a lie, “I’m not. I’m not jealous.” 

Grantaire lifted a heavy hand and put it on Enjolras’s cheek in an awkward and clumsy manner. ”Whatever you say.”


	12. Kisses and Social Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Enjolras and Grantaire watch The Notebook. FLUFF.

“Enjolras, are you crying?” Grantaire asked, the smile on his lips showing in his voice as he spoke in a playfully mocking tone. 

“ _No,_ ” he vowed in response, although his voice quivered a bit. Grantaire, sitting on his lap, had his head leaned over his shoulder; he could hear every shallow, strained breath the blond was taking in.

Because he was Grantaire, of course, he pressed: “Come on, that’s the kind of bullshit happy ending you love! Noah and Allie died in each other’s arms; what more could you want?” 

Enjolras’ voice was cracking like a teenager’s when he insisted, “I’m not _crying_ , Grantaire. Besides, even if I was” – he sniffed – “it would be because of the faulty healthcare system in which they found themselves that ultimately lead to their deaths.” 

Grantaire groaned. “Here we go again…” he mumbled, but Enjolras didn’t pay him any attention. 

“It’s just so sad!” 

“Why does this happen to me?” 

“Had there been a more socialized and efficient healthcare system, it’s likely that Allie could have overcome her dementia in time to recognize Noah before they died –“

“—not likely—“

“and then it could have been a bullshit happy ending!” He sniffled again and rubbed his nose into Grantaire’s black curls. 

_Gross_.

Ah, well, they’d just have to take a shower together later on, gleefully thought Grantaire. 

There had been a tiny portion of Grantaire that hoped that the fact that his face was buried in his hair would stop him from babbling, but he knew that this would, unfortunately, not be the case; not that he minded too much, as he loved to listen to his senseless dreams of revolution, but on their dates it was nice to get some time away from that. 

“One day, Grantaire, one day there will be equality for all when it comes to the basic human right to healthcare. When it’s my time to go, you can be damn sure that I will have done everything I could to ensure equality. They will know the ABC as the premier group in sparking the revolution leading to equal rights for all, regardless of social status. Just you wait.” 

Grantaire didn’t respond, and Enjolras had nothing to add.

After a few minutes of cuddling and comfortable silence, Grantaire finally spoke. “Would you want to die in my arms?” 

Enjolras’ head nodded slightly as he pondered the idea. “I think I would, yes.” 

“I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t want to live a second without you. We could die like Allie and Noah.” 

His boyfriend smiled in reply and kissed the crown of his head. “Hopefully you’ll still remember me.”

“Enjolras, I don’t think I’d ever be able to forget you,” he said earnestly, leaning up to kiss him lightly on the lips. In response, the blonde’s mouth accepted him warmly. For a few seconds, it was a stagnant, unmoving connection, before Enjolras broke it in order to kiss him softly on the nose, the cheek, the forehead, and finally, his mouth again; this time, it maintained all the gentleness of the first but with a more forceful feeling behind it. 

The two couldn’t help but smile, the tears that once streamed down Enjolras’ face slowly drying into invisible trails of salt down his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Prompt by Tumblr user the-power-of-enjolsass: E/R watch the notebook. Or some cheesy, crappy romance. Complete with blanket fort and adorable cuddles and butterfly kisses!   
> Sorry I didn't follow it to a T, maybe I'll include some blanket forts in the next one ;)   
> Much love!  
> Lauren  
> xo


	13. Roleplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Courf and Jehan add some spice to their sex life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did a challenge in which my Tumblr followers submitted one word for me to include in a 400-word drabble. Those words are bolded. The title of this drabble is Roleplay.

Courfeyrac leaned over to **unbuckle** a trembling suit-clad Jehan. "Come now, Monsieur, surely a man of your beauty familiar with the principles of **sex**?" He crooned, running a black-gloved finger down his jawline.

"Not through these means, no," Jehan replied, his voice shaking.

"You must be wondering why I've **invited** you here," he continued, his voice smooth as silk, "Quite considerate of you to come, though, on such short notice."

Jehan clenched his eyes closed and took in a labored breath. "You have my **lover** hostage; it's not like I have much of a choice. You've **blackmailed** me into this, Lupin."

In response, Courfeyrac hummed contentedly. "Blackmail? Monsieur, I'd beg to differ. No matter, though; come inside." And with that, Courfeyrac ushered Jehan out of the sleek black car. He strode silently toward the door, Jehan in tow. He opened the door for the smaller man, and placed a gloved hand on the small of his back as he walked inside. "Please, come this way."

Jehan gulped and followed him through the kitchen. Courfeyrac lifted him up onto the counter next to a plate of fine **cheeses** and a bottle of wine, so he was straddling him. "Tell me, Arsène, why have you brought me here?" Jehan demanded, albeit a bit timid.

Courfeyrac tsk-ed, shaking his head slowly. "Dear Monsieur, did you really think I would bring you this whole way just so I could tell you my plan?"

"I was hoping I could convince you to tell me," Jehan hummed in response, becoming so bold as to tuck a brown ringlet out of the brunet's face.

"Oh, you know how I **adore** your nerve. I concede. Are you familiar with the process of **transubstantiation**?" Asked Courfeyrac, one of his eyebrows arching up. His sultry brown eyes betrayed no emotion – only seduction.

Jehan bit his lip, but ultimately couldn't help but burst into a fit of giggles. "I can't do it anymore!" He laughed.

Courfeyrac scowled. "Damn! I was so in-character, though!" He cursed, although a smile shone on his lips and mirth glimmered in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just sat on a puddle of water and it's really uncomfortable," Jehan giggled, hopping off of the counter, "and now my **butt** is all wet."

Snickering, Courfeyrac scooped Jehan up in his arms and carried him off to the bedroom where, **hallelujah,** there were some comfy dry sweatpants for him to change into.


	14. Pain au Chocolat

“Jehan!” Came a squeak from the back room of the Musain. Prouvaire furrowed his brow, placing the vase of flowers he was carrying on the table. 

“Dear Joly, what has become of you?” Jehan exclaimed, running up to the man quivering in the corner. 

“Stay back!” Joly choked out in reply, “I’m warning you. It might be contagious.” 

“What might be contagious?” He mused in reply as he ignored the request to stay away by sitting next to him and encircling him in slender arms, knowing that the frightened man was probably in one of his hypochondria-induced panics.

“Well, yesterday evening, I was out with Bossuet – the poor darling wasn’t wearing a hat, silly him, so I wrapped my scarf around his head; he looked quite silly, to be honest, walking about with a… right, anyway, he bought me a pain au chocolat. What a dear, too; he had looked for an establishment with a 100 on their health inspection, a lovely little place with quite the charming hostess. Her name was Fatima, I think. Or Florence. Quite a kind woman, very plump and friendly. At any rate, yes, Bossuet bought me a pain au chocolat – lovely pastry, fresh-baked, too, my absolute favorite – and I ate it all quite quickly, I’m afraid. Then, well, I looked in the mirror to check my tongue, as you know several viruses are going around as of late, and it’s quite likely I’ll catch a lethal one, what with the weather and all. And on my tongue there was a wet brown spot! Undoubtedly it was some sort of infection. So I bid Bossuet goodnight immediately, then rushed over here, to the comfort of the Musain to die in peace. Oh, Jehan, I don’t want to die!” He sobbed into his shoulder. 

Prouvaire stroked his hair comfortingly. “There, there, precious Joly; I’m sure it’s just a mistake.” 

“A mistake!” The young student cried, “What a mistake my life has been. I’ve been studying all this time to be a doctor, when I won’t even live to get my degree.” 

“Hush, dear heart, you’ll work yourself into a tizzy.” 

“Oh, to die alone – such a cruel way to go! Thank you, Jehan, for coming to ease the pain of my passing.” 

“You’re not dying, dearest.” 

“I do so appreciate your optimism, but I’m afraid now is not the time for such foolishness.”

Jehan held his tongue, not in the least perturbed by Joly’s unintentional insult. “My sweet Joly, please be calm. You’re going to be fine.” 

Joly looked up at him with tears brimming on his wide brown eyes. “I’m too young to go,” he whispered. 

Seeing the look of utter defeat on Joly’s face made Jehan’s poor poetic heart break. He held Joly tightly with one hand, the other coming to brush his hair out of his eyes. It took minimal thought on Jehan’s part to lean forward and press a soft kiss to Joly’s trembling lips. Joly nearly collapsed into him, seeking out his warm tenderness. Jehan smiled against his mouth before pulling away ever so slightly. 

Joly closed the distance again, his lips establishing a slow, needy rhythm as the rest of his body held onto his friend like it was the only thing tethering him to this earth – which, to Joly’s credit, he probably thought it was. In response, Jehan’s nimble fingers nested in his hair and rubbed comforting patterns onto his scalp. Joly sighed. 

Then, all of a sudden, he snapped back. “I’ve just infected you!” He cried, realization and horror written all over his face. 

Jehan only shook his head and grinned. “Do you think, perhaps, the spot on your tongue could have been from your pain au chocolat?”

Joly stopped shuddering a moment to take in the information. Without warning, he jumped up into a standing position, a smile illuminating his face. “By Jove, you’re right! It probably was just that!” 

Jehan smiled. “Are you alright now?” 

“Oh, I am better than alright! I’m alive, Prouvaire!” He shouted jubilantly before pressing forward to happily kiss his friend again.


	15. Coffee Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU Grantaire works in a locally-owned patisserie frequented by the glorious Enjolras.

Grantaire looked at the clock – 4:22. The cute blond boy was 3 minutes late. The bell chimed through the chatter of the patisserie, alerting the employee that a new customer had just entered. His head snapped up and he was relieved to see the familiar red jacket.

“Apollo!” He shouted, “The usual?”

“Yeah,” replied the customer, laying his books out on the corner table by the window he would always occupy at 4:19 sharp on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Not that Grantaire was uncharacteristically excited about this fact. Not at all.

He walked up to claim his pain au chocolat and decaf iced chai, but as he reached for his wallet, Grantaire cut him off with a quick “It’s on me.”   
Enjolras smiled. “Thanks,” he said with a genuine smile, before returning to his seat.

Grantaire was about to go up to talk to him, but he was cut off by a perky young woman. “Hey, ‘Taire!” She squeaked, giving him a kiss on both cheeks. Grantaire grudgingly returned the gesture.

“Can I please have my usual, too?” She asked with a coy smile.

“And that would be…?”

She shook her head. “Silly you! Two croissants and an Orangina.”

He retrieved the items for her. “Alright, that’ll be €4,82.”

The bouncy girl lifted an eyebrow. “You aren’t going to pay for me?”

“Why would I do that?”

She pouted. “Oh, I don’t know, because you did two weeks ago? Remember?”

“Yeah. You said your cat died. I felt bad,” he deadpanned.

She just continued grinning as if it hadn’t even phased her. “I was kidding! Pebbles is just fine, though he’s been kind of stopped up ever since we switched from the high-fiber cat food.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah, I’ll say! But anywho, are you gonna pay for me or not?”

Grantaire looked out of the corner of his eye to see Enjolras shooting daggers at the girl. He would never admit it, but it made his heart glow ever so slightly. “€4,82,” he demanded again.

“Are you sure there aren’t… other ways I could pay?” She suggested, her childish face turned into a sad puppy expression. She winked.

“No.”

“Fine…” She grumbled, putting a €5 note onto the counter. “Keep the change.”

On the note was her 10-digit phone number accompanied by several X’s and O’s. It took all Grantaire’s willpower not to wad up the bill and take a three-point shot into the trashcan on the other side of the room.

For the next few hours, people came and left the patisserie, with the exception of Enjolras, who stayed cemented to his seat. Slowly, the traffic inside dwindled until it was just the two of them.

Eventually, it was 9:17 – 17 minutes after Grantaire was supposed to close up. He couldn’t bring himself to evict the beautiful creature pouring so diligently over his notes, though, so he just busied himself cleaning up while singing absentmindedly and sneaking glances at the resident god.

Finally Enjolras packed up his things. Before leaving, however, he stopped to talk: “Hey.”

“Oh, hey,” Grantaire said casually, leaning up against the mop he was holding - which in turn slipped out of his grasp and fell to the floor, making Grantaire stumble. Enjolras chuckled. “What’s up?”

“I just wanted to say thanks for staying open for me. I was going to leave sooner, but I just got so caught up in my GOV 2250 homework, you know?”

“Totally,” Grantaire lied.

“So, umm… who was that girl?” Enjolras asked, a blush creeping into his cheeks.

Grantaire had to think about it for a moment. “Oh, Claire?” He asked with a chuckle. “She’s no one, really.”

“She didn’t seem like no one.”

“She’s just… She’s just Claire. She does things like that — she’s a flirt, you see, it’s what they do,” Grantaire fumbled awkwardly for words. “I’m not… into her, or anything. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a sweetheart, it’s just she’s not really my type or anything, and…”

“What is your type?”

The shopkeeper nearly choked on his own spit at that. “I… umm…” He stuttered, “Are you trying to flirt with me? ‘Cause I’ll have you know that I really suck at this.”

“Oh,” Enjolras replied, “I’m sorry, I just thought…”

But Grantaire cut him off. “Would you wanna go out? Like, a date thing? Or just out? Something like that. I don’t know. Or maybe not, you know, you can keep coming in at 4:19 and studying and brushing your hair behind your ears every so often and pouting at your homework and biting the tip of your pen in that cute way you always do, I mean, that’d be totally cool-”

This time it was Enjolras who did the cutting off. He surged forward and captured Grantaire’s mouth in a soft kiss.

It took Grantaire a few seconds, but he eventually leaned into it, wrapping one arm around Enjolras’ slender frame and bring the other hand up to cup his face.

“A date sounds lovely.”


	16. Combeferre/Jehan Cuddlepuddle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anonymous Tumblr prompt

“I have an Epidemiology exam tomorrow, Joly, please get up.” 

“Nope.” 

“Please?” 

“Not gonna happen.” 

“We can watch another episode of NCIS while I’m reading.” 

And with that, Joly shot straight up, ripping himself out of Combeferre’s warm embrace and up off the bed. His friend chuckled. After gathering all of his required materials, which included, but was not limited to: three enormous textbooks, his laptop, three binders, three 200-page dissertations, and a pen, he came back into the bedroom to find that Joly had created a little nest out of blankets and pillows. “I thought you’d be more comfy this way.” 

Combeferre was delighted. He plopped onto the bed and spread his things out around him. When he was properly situated and Joly had flipped on the television, he dared to lean over and give Joly a little kiss on the nose. 

Joly had all but fallen asleep when Combeferre was done pouring over his maps of cholera statistics of 19th century England. Smiling, the larger man flipped off the television. 

“I was watching that,” mumbled Joly through the pillow his face has buried in. 

“I do believe it’s time for you to go to bed,” Combeferre said, patting his soft hair. 

“Let me stay here.” 

And of course, Combeferre relented. He cleared all his stuff off the bed and curled around Joly without bothering to take off his day clothes, who in turn snuggled so close to him that they might as well just have been one person altogether. Combeferre didn’t mind. In fact, he relished this closeness he would have with his part-time lover, part-time friend, because it meant getting to forget about the countless stresses of helping his friends, studying, and planning a revolution to top it all off. It was just them, their warmth, and the love they shared as they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms.


End file.
